


he saw hundreds of copies of himself

by moggin



Series: a non-festive december mcyt prompt list [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Dictatorship, Dystopia, Heavy Angst, Mind Control, Scarves, cloning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moggin/pseuds/moggin
Summary: Schlatt has taken his power a bit too far.prompt: dystopian
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Jschlatt, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: a non-festive december mcyt prompt list [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038111
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	he saw hundreds of copies of himself

Wilbur’s gait was stiff as he walked through what once was the great country of L’Manberg. Schlatt, the president of Manberg, had, with Technoblade’s help, destroyed every other civilization other than Manberg. 

Pogtopia was gone. 

Wilbur and his teammates were forced back into Manberg, forced to witness the horror that Schlatt had created. 

Wilbur still remembered the presidential address Schlatt gave, standing alone at his podium, raised above everyone else in every way. There was a slight breeze accentuating the chilly November day. Wilbur looked up at the overcast sky, curling his toes in his leather boots in a feeble attempt to keep warm. He turned a coin in his palm, nestled warmly in his coat pocket. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to just float up above everything else, to have not a care in the world as he ascended and as his friends watched him fade into the bright clouds.

“Manberg is a great country,” Schlatt began, his voice echoing around the square. “It really is. But there’s one thing wrong with it. One blaring error.” He put a hand on either side of the podium, an air of superiority about him as he leaned forward.

“The economy…. It’s kinda shit. You know?” He paused, as if waiting for the audience to answer. Nobody did. Wilbur saw Tommy bury his face more into his knit scarf in his peripheral vision. 

“I’m gonna fix it. I’ve found some…. Science. And I’m gonna use it for free labor.” It was hard to ignore the communal sharp intake of breath in the crowd. “I want you all to come with me for a sec.”

He stepped back from the podium, taking a last glance at the crowd before turning and walking away. Wilbur saw him descending the stairs on the side, waiting at the bottom for everyone to follow him. It was more difficult to hear him now as he spoke, but Schlatt projected his voice to make sure everyone heard him loud and clear.

“At some point in the last couple weeks, I’ve collected DNA from each and every one of you.” 

Wilbur didn’t stop walking, he knew better than to show any distinct emotion in direct eyeshot of the man who brutally took over the entire server. He felt his brows furrow, though, and a bead of sweat drip down his face. When did he collect DNA from him?

Wilbur didn’t recall ever giving him something with his DNA… wait.  
About a week before, Wilbur had helped Techno with the farm, tilling dirt and planting potatoes and farming them for hours. He had been tired and sweaty and thirsty when he was finished, and that was when Schlatt stopped by. 

The president was never seen out of his three-piece suit, but that didn’t make it any less odd as the well-dressed man showed up to talk to Wilbur and Techno, who were both wearing dirty denim overalls and old button-up shirts. Techno even had a straw hat that he said “completed the look”. 

“You thirsty?” Schlatt took a water bottle out of his inventory and held it out for Wilbur to take, which he did gratefully, chugging the entire thing pretty quickly and letting out a satisfied “ahh” after he was finished. 

“Thanks.” He handed the bottle back to Schlatt, who took it and put it back where he had it when he walked over. “What did you need?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your production rates.”

Back in the present, Wilbur regretted drinking from that stupid bottle. His spit was on the lip of the bottle, and Schlatt could definitely use that as a sample. Instead of dwelling on it, Wilbur thought of the things Schlatt could do with a DNA sample. 

He could learn about any deficiencies he had that he didn’t know about. That would be a good thing. Schlatt did say he wanted labor, and fixing any bodily deficiencies in his workers(they were actually his citizens, but they all knew he only used them as workers) would probably allow them to get more done, and the economy would go up. 

But something told him that that wasn’t the reason Schlatt was getting DNA samples. 

Wilbur took a look around, and the people around him wore varying expressions of shock, anger, confusion and fear. He assumed they all just remembered when he got ahold of their DNA as well. He and Techno made eye contact, but immediately looked away. If Schlatt saw them making eye contact, he would get suspicious. Wilbur didn’t need Schlatt breathing down his neck.

Schlatt took all of them to a small hole in the wall, a tiny hallway that lead to a flight of stairs. The group descended the stone steps in silence before Schlatt spoke again. “I’m guessing you all have figured out when I got samples. I didn’t do anything creepy to get them. You all are just stupid.”

Nobody made any sort of reaction. Wilbur remembered when Tommy had yelled at Schlatt when he called them stupid, and Schlatt had simply invited Tommy into a room alone with him. The Tommy they knew never came out. Instead, a more reserved, quiet Tommy came out, refusing to make any kind of contact with anyone except Tubbo. They had developed a habit of holding hands for moral support.

Wilbur looked over to where they were walking, and saw that Tubbo’s hand was in Tommy’s coat pocket with Tommy’s hand. He didn’t blame them, it was cold and Schlatt didn’t like people wearing gloves since Dream once snuck up on him with knives in the fingers of his gloves. He returned his gaze to the steps.

“I know you all are thinking, ‘What did he do with the samples?’, and I’ll tell you. I figured out how to clone people.” Nobody reacted(on the outside, at least). “And I cloned all of you. And now I’ve got free labor.”

“Now, you might be wondering why I’m telling you this. Why would I tell you? It’s beyond your control anyway. But there’s definitely a reason.” He paused his speech again, as he stepped down off the final step of the stairwell. Everyone followed him. “Your DNA is an important part of cloning. But there’s another important part.”

Schlatt led them to a pair of double doors, opening them to reveal a _giant_ room. In the room were fenced in areas with hundreds of people in them. It was a farm.  
Upon closer inspection, Wilbur realized it was them. 

The pens were sorted by person. They walked through a pathway in the middle, walking by a Technoblade section, a Niki section, a Tommy section, and sections for everyone else. Including Wilbur. He saw hundreds of copies of himself, walking aimlessly, like zombies. Some were looking blankly at the ceiling, some were just standing, some were walking and attempting speech, but all that came out were throaty groans. 

“The other important part,” everyone held their breaths, bracing for the worst, “is memory.” Tommy buried his head into his scarf again. Wilbur guessed it was yet another anxious habit the boy had developed while Schlatt was president. 

“Go sit in those chairs while I’m talking.” Schlatt pointed at a row of wooden armchairs. They all did what they were told, assuming Schlatt just wanted them to be lower than him. That was why he gave speeches on the podium, after all. They were expecting him to just keep talking when they sat down. What they weren’t expecting, however, was the metal cuff that snapped around their necks when they were all seated, effectively preventing them from moving. Wilbur noticed Tommy in the seat next to him, beginning to shake. He was sure Tubbo was on the other side of him, holding his hand tightly, but Wilbur wanted to give him support, too, so he gently tapped Tommy’s hand. Tommy looked at Wilbur, turning his head to the side as much as he could manage, and Wilbur gave him a soft smile. Tommy’s gaze flicked from Wilbur’s face to his open hand, and got the message. He laced his fingers through Wilbur’s longer ones, squeezing hard and taking deep breaths. Wilbur squeezed back.

“Memories are what give us personality,” Schlatt turned to face them all, “it gives us function. All these people you see? They’re mindless. They’re _useless_.” Another round metal piece came out of the back of the chair and closed on all of their heads like a dull iron crown. Tommy’s grip tightened around Wilbur’s hand. Wilbur reciprocated.

“So, you all are gonna give them your minds.” He paused, drinking in the fear written clearly on each of their faces. “It’s okay, no need to be so scared. It’ll only hurt a little. Besides,” he took a few steps towards all of them, leaning in and lowering his voice, “no one will ever know they’re not the originals.”

Wilbur felt a sharp prick on both sides of his head, then nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> wanna participate in the prompt list? join the discord! https://discord.gg/XmqNfG2Q8N
> 
> thanks for reading! comments are appreciated :)


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